Anata to watashi
by VintageTypewriter2346
Summary: Loving someone is never easy. (One shot) HaruXKou
1. Chapter 1

_**Anata to watashi**_

Darkened, aged wood lined the misted glass. A greyed mixture of heat and the night-sky becomes one. Tiny rain droplets stain the chilled window making trails through the foggy mess, revealing the black-ink night with white-freckles.

Clothes are scattered throughout the room like a _perfectly_ placed story-book. The air's hot, heavy and filled with comfort, _this_ is _their_ paradise. Their safe haven. Distilled.

Long lashes like fine-silk. An innocent face which is forevermore stone-cold within awaken moments; known as: emotionless, bored and distant to the world.

Delicate pale fingers trace the mature tanned complex face of the man.

His (surprisingly) smooth jawline that feels like it's never grown a hair. Emasculate cheek bones and stern facial structure. Thumbs tingling as they brush against his perfect lush lips that are slightly parted as he sleeps. Moving away long strains of raven-hair from his handsome face, an uncontrollable urge awakens.

Leaning forward two lips connect sending a bursting spark down her spine. Feeling his lashes stir on her cheek she's welcomed with an arm wrapping around her nude thin waist, and deepening of the kiss.

A hitch of her breath gives him an entrance, he takes it and begins the intense tongue-play both enjoy more than they should.

"H-Haru," the nix stutters as the said-man's lips run down her neck and he rolls on top of her body. Two hungry intense blue-eyes look up as he trails further.

A refection of beauty is solid in his orbs—thin face fit with plump lips, narrow cheeks and two feisty red orbs that held wordless conversations with him through many days.

Long ruby locks trace her shoulders and down her form; hair he's tangled his fingers through on many occasions.

Suddenly her two gentle hands grasp his muscular shoulders, pushing her lover from her form.

"I should get ready,"—the statement causes his eyes to wave with fury.

She knows _that look_ : the undesirable want to keep her in place, sadness for the departure, and his wish to have her with him all the time. The red-head despise that look because it causes reality to settle in quicker.

They'd have to leave his bed, dress in loving words and desires. She'll have to fight the urge to stay with him forever and leave her life behind.

"Don't look at me like that," she sighs; sitting up her long locks cover her nude breast.

His eyes linger over her perfection; the blankets fall from his body to reveal the godly-sight of his muscles—one's that make her droll every time. Arms pull her closer into an embrace. A warm blanket of comfort washes over her body in his hold, a regular feeling when with the blue-eyed man. The feeling she adores.

Haru's tongue burns with desire to beg her not to go, but after months of doing so, he stopped. It'd only start another conversation about the possibilities, one's he used to be afraid of. Now, she's all that matters.

"Kou," he whispers into her hair; she perks with a hum in response, "I'm in love with you."

Her body tense from the confession—words she's wanted to hear for month's now. Pressing an ear against his chest she listens to his racing heart—knowing his face is emotionless and composed.

"I love you too, Haru," Kou softly grins.

Haruka Nanase: the man she loves, wants a future with a family and marriage. Her brother's best-friend (one of the many). Her secret lover and addiction.

Haruka Nanase is her love affair.

He is her boyfriend's best-friend.

 _._

 _._

 _._

The car door clicks as she sits in the driver-seat, two brown bags of groceries in the back—an excuse.

Kou's orbs look to her phone for the fifth-time since leaving Haru's. The screen only hold messages from her lover—none are sent from her _"boyfriend"._ Her heart sinks for the silence, she couldn't understand it.

The man she's been with for four-years, one whom she lives and goes home to, barely shows her any affection.

At first she knew, with all her heart and soul, she was in love with him. They spoke of marriage and kids—but, four-years have pass and nothing. He barely touches her form which caused everything to begin.

.

.

 _Eyes hooded in disappointment and betrayal glow from the television screen. The red-head feels fooled; a mere joke._

 _The feeling continues to grow once the screen flashes black and the faint sight of near-dead candle sticks glowing on the table burns her eyes. Tears roll down her cheeks and onto her baggy-pants._

 _Today of all days; her birthday and their four-year anniversary._

 _Perhaps it's the celebration of her first breath, but being forgotten feels worse today. She knew no matter his excuse, she wouldn't forget nor forgive. He'll probably blame work like he has for the last three months, but no amount of work would prevent him from sending one text message or call her for 30 seconds._

 _Everyone has contacted her: family, close friends and co-workers, even her brother who she barely speak to._

 _Closing her eyes she sighs and turns off the television before looking at her phone once more, hoping to see a reply or a missed phone-call—yet, there is nothing. The time blurs in her ruby-orbs—_ ll:58 pm.

 _Standing from the couch she begin towards the table; leaning down the warm-light of the candle-flame flickers on her flesh. Holding a little air in her lungs, she goes to blow the flame to amber only to stop; a stern knock echoes the apartment._

 _Confused she walks towards the door and peers through the peek-hole. Deep down she hoped it was her boyfriend—maybe he forgot his key and was rushing home to see her, or perhaps his phone died at work and he suddenly realized the time causing him to rush home without his key. But, her eyes meet a bright-blue, one's she knows well and enjoys to stare into from time-to-time._

" _Haru-kun!" she exclaims with a quick swing of the door._

 _He stood, the man she's known for years and has (recently) confide in, standing in the hallway with a pink cake lite with candles._

" _Make a wish," he says blankly; grinning she leans down and blows the candles. "11:59 PM" he states; she's shocked, "Happy Birthday."_

 _ **This is how we began.**_

 _Allowing her visitor into the apartment, Kou feels her chest become warm with joy and happiness. For the last few months, since they've started talking daily, he's had that effect on her body—a feeling that vanished nearly two years ago._

 _His eyes linger over the apartment, noting the dying candles, cold dinner and silence in the atmosphere, he could feel the disappointment and sorrow for being forgotten—it's replaced the once happy and loving aura the two used to give-off. Haru's slightly relieved for the change._

 _Truth be told, Haru had been attracted to the woman for years, since High-school but could never act upon it. Once she started dating her current boyfriend he thought the obsession would disappear but, he was absolutely wrong—it got_ worse.

 _Sitting down on the barstool his eyes examine her delicate hand cutting the cake._

" _You didn't," she gasps for the inside. "How did you—Haru—ah, thank you!"_

 _Launching herself into his arms, she snuggles into his touch. It was worth it—the trip from Tokyo back to their hometown for her favorite cake, one she's missed since moving to the city._

" _You're worth the trip," he says into her locks._

" _Huh?" Kou blinks while pulling away. "Haru-kun," she giggles; beneath his emotionless appearance his heart is racing and chest tightening for her sweet laughter. Her eyes linger on his face as she continues to laugh for the smeared pink-icing on his cheek. Without thought she uses a finger to remove the icing and sucking it clean._

 _He watches her cheerful expression, luscious lips moving with the sugar. A thought of his best-friend pops into his mind, but vanishes with the irritated thought of:_ 'you were warned—warned that I'd take her away if you let your guard down.'

 _Their lips met, shocking Kou but gradually she relaxes for the honey-taste of his mouth._

 _Moving in sync the kiss is heated with passion and desire—an extreme desire she's never felt before in her life._

 _Arms wrap around her waistline pulling her close. The swirling flavor of strawberry mixes with his as things become hot. Roughly he lifts and rest her on the counter, hands running down her sides and to her legs pushing them apart. Skillfully he rest himself between her thighs, lips still locked with hers as the red-heads hands clench the back of his shirt for dear-life._

 _Breaking the kiss briefly, she removes his shirt and tosses it onto the floor away from their bodies._

 _Something_ _ **so**_ _wrong felt right, and for once in two years she felt_ _ **loved.**_

 **.**

 **.**

Leaning back into the driver-seat, eyes blurred with tears and hand clenching the phone; Kou bites her lip.

Four months—has it been less or longer? She doesn't know; when it comes to Haru it feels like the world is moving too fast and against them. There's never enough time with him—she could never explain why to anyone, even Chigusa, her only friend who knows of her affair with Haru and the current state of her relationship. According to her best-friend, she should break-up with her boyfriend and live with Haru, but, it wasn't that simple.

Yes, she could leave but, what would happen to their friendship? Haru has been friends with him since they were kids. They swam together, knew each-other's secrets and past misfortunes. How could she live knowing she destroyed a life-time of friendship?

No matter how many times Haru would tell her he didn't care—he just wants her and nothing more; she couldn't listen, because she knew the truth. Kou knows Haru better than he knows himself. Right now, she's all he needs and wants, but in the future—one day—he'll need his best-friend more than he ever needs her. Kou can understand him, knowing his every thought, but at the end-of-the-day she'll never understand him like another man… like his best-friend.

She could dump her boyfriend and live on her own, secretly seeing Haru and then after time has pass announce that they're together. But, every time she mentions that plan/idea, Haru replies with the same answer: _**"I'd rather have a reason to not have you, then to pretend we're not together."**_

For a man of little words, he's persistent and blunt as a can be.

That's the thing: blunt, quiet, emotionless, hard-to-read, unpredictable, water-obsessed and rude (at times). Haru is all those things.

He doesn't know how to cook anything besides fish, rice, pineapple and a few other dishes. Picking fights with him is possible, because he always wins without opening his mouth. His temper can get the best of him at times, and he doesn't understand others easily.

All of these things and flaws are traits she told herself she'd never put-up with. She'd never fall in love with someone like this.

But yet… everyday… every-time, she hast to leave his side her heartaches more than it did the-day-before. Whenever they try to break their love-affair off, she comes running back within a time-spanned of two-hours, because she misses his single-word messages and the sound of his breath whenever they run out of things to talk about on the phone. Everything around Kou reminds her of how much she loves someone she should hate.

Yet, there are times—times where she could never imagine a flaw to the water-obsessed male. God knows how many times she's played witness to his rare smiles or extremely angelic laughter. There are things about Haru which belong to angels—things that only cause her to love him more. Like how his face scrunches together whenever he "accidently" eats clams—the stubborn long bangs that cover his eyes—his ability to push her beyond her boundaries and into an uncomfortable zone. He changes people, like her brother, boyfriend and friends—but, more importantly, he changes her.

Her mind is scattered as she pulls out of the grocery-stores parking-lot with the _buzzing_ of her phone on the seat. She stops at the red-light and answers the device, pressing it against her ear as the Bluetooth connects.

"Moshi-Moshi!" she replies, placing the phone in the cup-holder and both hands on the wheel.

"Where?" the rustic and addictive voice whispers through the phone—she smiles gently for the one-word question—Haru's trademark.

At first it annoyed her to the core—made her furious because she could never finish his questions or understand what he's saying, not to mention how demanding it sounds. But, over time, she got used to it and learned how Haru ticks.

"I'm right outside _Yui_ _Market_ ," she giggles. "Do you miss me already?"

He sighs heavily, rubbing his eyes roughly. "Please come back."

"Haru," she whispers while pressing on the gas. "We both know I can—"

"I don't care anymore," Haru's angry growl interrupts, "… I just want to wake-up and sleep with you in my arms. I know you think I need him, but… I need you more and that's forever—"

"You're best-friends. You need someone who understands you—"

"I have your brother, Rei, Nagisa—heck, I'll even start socializing more if you want," a smug grin appears on her face for the suggestion.

"That would be a sight," Kou giggles; the vehicle stops at a light. "You suck at socializing, Haruka Nanase."

"I know," his voice deepens," but, I'd do anything for you, Kou Matusoka."

Car's rush across in front of her as her cheeks flush pink—it's that feeling again, the one that only Haru can make her feel. She adores such a feeling.

A long pregnant pause echoes the car between the two. The light turns green.

"I love you, Kou," Haru whispers.

A smile spreads on her lips for those words. She opens her mouth to reply, but bright lights from the passenger-side bore into her car.

Glass shatters—sparks scrap from the metal—the vehicle rolls and flips, slamming into another.

All goes **black.**

* * *

Anata to watashi: You and I

This just an idea that's been sitting on my laptop for a while. I will probably place a bunch of ideas on this form.

I hope you all enjoyed. Leave your thoughts if you would like!

Until next time,

VintageTypeWriter2346~


	2. Chapter 2

**AU NOTE: Some characters many be OOC. You have been warned.**

* * *

 _ **Anata to watashi (2)**_

It won't go away—the smell, the unholy scent of burning rubber and gasoline; it's etched onto him like cresses in a shirt. It's a reminder, a dreadful one.

A reminder of regrets, boiling anger, constant lingering thought and hope. _God_ , did it bring so much damn hope.

He couldn't shake it no matter the amount of times he'd scrub his face in the bathroom sink. Just like his inability to shake _**this**_ feeling, it feels like lungs burning for air, sitting for too long and the numb sensation tingling throughout, it turns seconds into hours and hope into the only craving desire. God, did he need hope; he needed so much of it.

Within moments he'd grasp hope, it smelt of her faded vanilla-shampoo mixed with sweet-sweet sweat. It sounds of her bubbly laughter that for years and even now, is a tiny slice of the sun and heaven because she's an angel. But the worst is how hope is the dreams they had, but fought against because of one _damn_ person.

He could see, feel and smell it; the possible future.

Awakening to her bright smile, listening to her attempts at picking fights but giving-up. One day, seeing her in white or holding a bundled blanket while exhausted but _so_ damn happy.

Hope is five seconds, interrupted by the scent of his shirt. Reality.

Uncanny, nerve-racking and well known—fear is something that everyone knows well. Sometimes it brings joy, heartbreak, betrayal and complete despair; there's never a set feeling to fear. But it's never the same for everyone.

This fear—this pain was something he never imagined could exist. He's been through fear before, but nothing like this; is nothing like losing his grandparents and being alone or when his father threw him into a pool for the first time with the beckoning comment of: _"swim"._ All those tiny moments are nothing.

Hearing the same two sliding doors open, set of frantic foot-steps and eager voices on the brinks of screaming at the medical staff—it couldn't shake it; he couldn't return to his composed and emotionless state. No, there would be something completely wrong with him if he did.

"God dammit, tell me where she is?!" a booming voice leads eyes to shoot towards the frantic male.

"Sir, you need to calm—"the nurse attempts.

Ears ringing from the motion from the entrance door's he leans down, elbows digging into the stained blue-plaid pajama-bottoms and hands hiding his face from the others. He could only wish for the strength to make his appearance known, but all he could focus and think about was _her_.

He's afraid…afraid to look up and see the people arriving for her; hoping for once in all the past two years someone specifically would run through those _damn_ doors' in a panic because he's worried for her. That throughout all the tears he had wiped away, long mumbled confused rants and late nights with her on the phone waiting for him to come home, that for once, he would put her first.

A friend is what he is to Haru—a best-friend, someone who he holds a great respect and understanding. Even though he'll admit he betrayed him in many ways, he never thought he'd lose respect for someone so critical to his life, because _damn_ , he was there for all of it.

"Someone give me some answers!" a brute fist slams against the nurses station, many are staring in fear while others search for security. "Where is sh—"

"Rin-chan!" a high assertive voice screams; Haru tenses knowing the high-pitch. "Yelling isn't going to get us anywhere," hearing the defeat is the usually cheerful tone felt like a hot metal iron piercing his heart.

"But—"Rin tries.

"Nagisa is right," a strict deep voice sighs, "The more we panic the worst this is going to get and we won't get any answers."

"Dammit," Rin whispers while taking a few deep breaths to regain composer, "Where's Makoto?"

Haru tightens his grip on his blue flip-phone.

.

.

.

" _I love you,"_ _he whispers into the phone and his heart begins to race again._

 _Silence echoes through the line, but he knows she's smiling—he knows because he knows her better than anyone. Whenever Kou is quiet it's either for a smile, pondering thought or defeat. He's memorized every fragment of her smile—the way her lips curl up and she always tries to contain it but eventually it becomes full-bloom. How the tiny freckles of her cheeks come closer together and nearly touch as her nose sprouts three distinct lines; and the bright indescribable light highlights her red-orbs. All happening in a matter of five seconds._

 _Awaiting for the eleven letters and four words in return he listens intensely, until the sounds of crushing metal, scattering glass and great force echoes instead._

 _Three seconds—three seconds is all it took for the dial-tone to become mute to the shattering of his heart._

" _Kou?" he squeaks; his throat feels numb and closed like all the air was sucked from his lungs. "Kou!" he yells, eyes watering with hot pools of tears and hands shaking with the truth connecting in his heart._

 _Instantly he launches out of the apartment—feet bare, phone grasped tightly and senses heightened._

 _Five minutes, that was how long it would usually take him to reach the market—but it took him one. A minute that felt like an hour. The world felt slow and dead._

" _No…no, no, no, no!" he screams, bright flames roar through black painted metal. The screeching screams of alarms echoing the street. "Kou! Kou!"_

 _Her tossed and battered silver car—each window missing glasses and smoke storming from the engine like a chimney. Rushing across the back end, feet burning from the glass shards, his hands pressing against the driver's door tears roll down his cheeks. She looks like a bleeding ragdoll._

 _Grunting and pulling at the door he grits his teeth together before the latch releases and sends him stumbling. Grasping her limp form in his arms he holds her close—her nostalgic scent wavers and blood seeps through his clothes. Under his fingers he can barely feel her pulse, something he used to listen to during the night._

.

.

.

Love can be cruel. Not painful but unnecessarily cruel.

As much as he'd love to be the hero and take this title he knew he couldn't. He could not answer the question burning throughout the air. Even though, _he_ was more suited for such great title.

"Where's Makoto?"

Haru didn't know but wanted to, because there's _**no**_ place on this planet that's more important right now. As much as he wanted to be angry he couldn't, because every time he heard the entrance doors open hope would awaken.

He would love to say: 'who cares if he's here or not' or 'it doesn't matter', but he knows. He knows Kou.

He knows that no matter the broken bones, high-amount of drugs in her system and death knocking on her door—that **it** matters. Haru hates that it matters but loves it too. Kou could handle physical pain but being forgotten is something she can't. Bones heal but a heart never truly does.

So, Haru waits hoping for Makoto to arrive in panic because he knows Kou can't handle that. Heck, Haru can't either. The under laying thought of someone like Kou Matsuoka: a woman who cares for others more than herself, a soul beyond bright and innocent and a person who deserves to be loved—being forgotten is devastating. Yet it's happening and he hates every part of it, because the more he waits for Makoto, the regret for allowing this to happen increases.

Five missed calls—twenty unread text-messages and nearly twenty years of respect destroyed in ten minutes.

"Not here," his voice echoes the waiting room and forces the group to look in his direction.

Eyes widen—his feet are cut, clothes soaked in black and body shaking. For once, in years of knowing Haru, they've never seen him emotional.

"H-Haru-chan?" Nagisa steps back slightly.

"What?" Rin growls but his anger is cut short by two red clouded blue eyes sharpened with hatred.

Friends—all four men are friends and they've been through life together, but never have they seen Nanase Haruka cry. Even as children when Haru fell and scrapped his knee's he didn't show an inch of emotion, he just went on without wincing. His blue eyes reflect more than just distance but anger, fear and sorrow.

A hand rest on the blondes lips as two long hot streams of tears trail down the mutes face; he is a broken man.

"Makoto is _**not**_ here," Haru tosses his phone to the floor.

When has Makoto ever been there? He hasn't for the last two years at least not for Kou. Why would he show-up now? When she's in surgery fighting for her life whilst he's off doing _god-knows-what._ He's angry because he promised to take care of her and be there, that was the only reason why Haru ever agreed with their relationship in the first place. Why he stepped down. Makoto broke that promise. He broke it a long time ago when Kou would breakdown during brunch because she's lonely. He broke that promise when he missed her birthday. He broke that promise when Haru could easily replace him. He broke that promise when Kou could say she loves someone else. But now, at this very moment, all hope of this promise has shattered and respect is gone.

Not a word, for men who spoke often and could carry conversations better than Haru they didn't have anything to say. Everything written on the single males' body spoke of the stories throughout the past two years: the hate, betrayal, loneliness, love and pain.

.

.

.

 _Finger tips ghostly hovering over smooth flesh, barely touching her skin but close enough to send the relaxing sensation of goosebumps throughout. Her small soft nose buried deep into the defined crest of his pectorals, allowing her senses to become intoxicated by his scent: chlorine, pineapple and salty sweat. A scent she wanted to bottle._

 _His hot breath within her hair whilst his fingers run throughout her back. Neither speak nor wish to._

 _Red hooded eyes flicker as they scan the tanned flesh of her lover. The hardened muscles from years of training and swimming, one's that she's admired since high-school but never got to closely examine. From afar his body is flawless, untainted and touched, but close-up she could see the thin scars from childhood and a few others that held stories. Each tiny part of him feed her desire to know Nanase Haruka immensely._

 _His finger pause suddenly on a tiny birthmark over her shoulder, moving her red locks to the side his eyes tenderly look down to the mark. Feeling her tense under his stare he leans down and presses his lips against the birthmark. Every moment with her felt like a dream, because for years he wished in silence that she could be his._

" _Haru?" she whispers; he hums softly but continues to trail kisses down her shoulder and neck. "How does something so wrong feel so right?"—a question he's heard before but could never truly answer since he didn't know._

 _Gently bringing her leg around his nude waist he rolls her back onto the mattress and straddles her body. For years he thought about having her long red strands spread over his white pillows leaving her scent throughout his sheets to sooth him when she leaves. Leaning down his lip brush against her collarbone and jawline in an effort to memorize her features._

" _Sometimes," his lips tickle her skin as they dance within his words, "its' okay to be selfish."_

 _Their eyes lock and she snakes her arms around his neck, feeling the small pools of raven locks and ripples from his back. She leans forward, filling the space between them and captures his lips suddenly. Haru doesn't hesitate to kiss her back and hold her body close to his._

 _They are their own selfish addiction._

.

.

.

Two and a half hours of silence, listening to nurses whining at their station, sipping on vending-machine coffee that Nagisa gave him and waiting for someone, anyone to tell him she was going to be okay. That's all he wanted, more than anything on this planet, for someone to say: Kou is going to be okay.

He needs the reassurance to know that he'll still have the chance to watch her smile form within five seconds, listen to her blabber on about her horrible days at work because she hates her job, tickle her back while they cuddle, take long train and taxi rides to get her favorite cake, but mostly, not give her up.

Throughout these two and a half hours he's thought about it, the idea's he's told her before; how he wanted nothing more than to wake up with her body next to his and be able to call her his in public. He came to the conclusion that after she wakes up he won't hesitate to tell everyone, especially Makoto about the truth and how he feels about her. But, in all honesty, the three other men in the waiting-room already know because throughout these hours he hasn't moved a muscle, didn't speak to nurses when they offered him scrubs or hospital-shoes for his feet, nor when they wished to bandaged the wounds from the glass. His eyes were locked on the corridor leading to the surgical-suite.

Blurred noise was all the waiting sounded like in his ears, but all he could remember was Kou's innocent laughter and the way her voice rises whenever she becomes embarrassed. She is everything to him, even though it's an affair.

"Nanase-kun," he turns quickly expecting a doctor but is met with two worried green eyes and a quivering lip, "please tell me she's going to be okay… please…"

"Hanamura-san," Haru presses his lips together before hugging the tiny woman. Her body shakes as she cries for her best-friend.

He wants to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but he didn't know that for a fact—he didn't know if Kou was going to be okay. He didn't know.

"I-I should've gotten here sooner," Chigusa sniffles; her sandy-locks are a mess and by the sight of the mix-matched outfit other could tell she rushed. "The… the taxi-ride from Iwatobi was so long…" she gasps and tries to find composer.

"At least _you_ showed up," she perks for the rough tone and looks over to the red-headed brother sitting not far from her.

Suddenly her orbs darken for the comment and she looks over the waiting-room, searching for the one person that she couldn't see in the group of men only to be met by Haru shaking his head sadly.

"He didn't—," she stops herself and bites her lips, "Oh Kou…"

Nagisa fidgets with his fingers quickly as he looks over the two before him, there was something unsaid, something they needed to know. "What is going on?" the blonde boldly questions.

Rin looks up to the two closest to his sister before tightening his jaw. "When did this start?"

Haru looks away in defeat, he didn't know what to say nor do, should he tell them all the truth? How throughout the years Kou's relationship has been dying? That _he_ is the one that's been there for all the turmoil and somehow budded a relationship with the nix? A relationship that is nothing but a forbidden unspoken secret that is considered a sin.

"Two years ago," Chigusa answers, "since Makoto got that job at the high-school off the bay."

"That along?" Rei perks as he fixes his glasses; Haru nods.

"It's been gradually getting worse," Chigusa hugs herself tightly, "you get the drift."

Slowly the men started to put the pieces together. The fact that Makoto wasn't here and the high demands of work for teachers. There were nights where Kou would briefly see him through the corner of her eyes entering the apartment, but he barely said a word to her. Even when the affair began he never noticed if she was gone for nights on end, because he was never home or when she got home late with the blunt excuse of: they kept me late and I had to get groceries. Makoto never noticed or so it seemed.

"Why didn't you tell me, Haru?" Rin sighs; the blue-eyed lover looks away before Chigusa taps his foot as a signal.

"Um," his cheek flush slightly and he rubs the back of his neck, "because for the last few month's…"his eyes scan over the crowd of men and Chigusa, hoping someone would say something so he wouldn't. But, there was no such luck, everyone was intrigued for what he was about to say. "…I've been seeing Kou behind Makoto's back," he finishes.

"Haru-chan…"Nagisa slightly gasps, "but Makoto's—"

"I love her," Haru bluntly interrupts, "I've been in love with her for years and he knows that."

"That doesn't give you the excuse to sleep with your best-friends girlfriend," Rin growls with his hand resting on his neck. "Especially my little sister—"

"I tried to stop it," Haru admits, "Especially when he told me how he felt about her, but… he broke his promise—"

"He's your best-friend for god-sakes, Haru,"Rin sternly says.

"Shut up," the group runs quiet for Chigusa's voice as her eyes fixate on Rin. "You have no idea what is going on. It's one thing to be lonely but being forgotten is worse. I'm not saying any of this is okay, but I'll be _damned_ if I just stand here whilst you run your mouth about your stupid values, when you don't know a thing about your little sisters life."

Rin goes silent as he firmly presses his lips together in a thin straight line, he's beyond embarrassed for the truth. The truth that he's lived less than fifteen minutes away from his sister and never made a true effort into strengthening their relationship. He's lived in nothing but a blanket of his career, hopelessly lost in his training for his races and bonding with his team-mates, that he neglected the one person whom he's supposed to protect…Kou. What kind of big brother was he?

He should've noticed whenever she would show-up to his practices with lunch in hand and a bright smile; he should've noted the slow dying flame in her eyes. How she would avoid any to all questions about her relationship, and would often appear with Haru (his rival). He should've noticed how close they would sit together in the stand, whispering occasionally to one another, how she'd be present to some of their joint practices and the often cancellations with his childhood best-friend. How didn't he notice?

Laying his head in his palms, feeling like a blind and foolish man, Rin bites his lip in silence.

Her two green-eyes stare at the red-head, she knows the white and red-jacket well because of many sleepovers as a teenager. She's heard the many different excuses from her best-friend in defense for her older-brother, all in which she thoroughly believed was bullshit excuses. She truly only met him a handful of times, but those were mere run-in's whenever he would jolt home to grab something from his room and then be off with a simple: 'bye'. As a single child she thought having an older-brother was great, but seeing the way Rin acted made her nothing but sick, especially with every excuse and fake smile Kou would sprout.

Turning her eyes to the other swimmer before her, she looks over him quickly to take in the said man whom her best-friend has fallen for. She could remember his emotionless face and obsession for water in high-school, but over the last few months and many scheduled lunch-dates, she had noticed the transformation of Haru throughout the years.

"She wouldn't want to see you like this," she simply states. Haru looks away before his eyes catch on the surgical-doors. He knows all too well that Kou would become worried for his appearance, asking questions about his feet and cloths, but he'd rather hear her questions and constant nagging once more. Changing seemed like another issue on its' own.

"Hanamura-san is right, Haru-chan," Nagisa chirps with his arms crossed and eyes fixated on the blood, "we know Gou, she thinks about others before herself."

He'd only worry her even more and she wouldn't focus on herself; one of the many things that he loves and hates about her. Her selflessness is beautiful but also a curse. "What if—"

"Nanase-kun," he turns for the sweet tone of a nurse, "we'll inform you firsthand if anything changes with Matsuoka-san's condition."

"I and Nagisa will go get you something to wear from the gift-shop," Rei sighs as he stands and shoves his hands into his pockets.

An image of Kou flashes before him as he sighs in defeat, he couldn't fight it, she would want this and he didn't want her to be worried. Right now, he's the one that's supposed to be worried. He nods to the nurse briefly before following the unknown-woman down the hallway into a room.

.

.

.

" _You sure?"—an innocent but nostalgic question. For the last ten minutes he's heard her ask the same question._

" _Why wouldn't I be?" he whispers into her ear with a hint of cockiness._

 _She turns, hair swaying from her messy bun. His blue eyes settle on her red-ones and a different smile is born, one that took more than five-seconds, it took years to form. Such a smile melts his heart in two-seconds. How can someone do this? Make the world stop and slow down with a single smile._

" _Because, you, tend to make decisions suddenly before thinking it through," she replies through said-smile. It's angelic._

 _Pulling her closer by her thin-waist his eyes examine her bright aura. There is something different—something that made her even more beautiful._

 _Bringing her hand to his lips he kisses her knuckles, feeling the warmth and smoothness of a ring he pulls away slowly. Before his eyes rest a sliver-band ring, fitted with a single pearl on her ring-finger. Such a sight makes his own ring noticeable._

" _My wife, and mother of my children," he says; her cheeks turn pink. "Why wouldn't I want a baby? Even though I might be doomed if their anything like their mother."_

" _I married such a dork," she giggles before kissing his lips._

He flinches awake from his dream and rubs his eyes roughly before he looks over the hospital-room. His eyes scan the people: her brother was fighting sleep, at some point Nagisa and Rei returned from venturing the floors and Chigusa had fallen asleep.

Sighing he rubs his hands together, there still wasn't any sign of Makoto or Kou's condition.

Looking to the double-doors again he bites his lip, these dreams and thoughts could've been true. If only he didn't agree to back-down. They could be married and thinking about children. Heck, he wanted all of that; all of her.

Flipping his cellphone one he is met with nothing but her image clouded by his sheets. One of the many pictures that he somehow managed to take throughout the last four months.

It's been three hours and there hasn't been a word about Kou, such a fact brings the sense of dread. How could he live without her?

He couldn't handle three hours without hearing her voice, picturing an eternity without her is impossible. Somehow he knows if Kou were to die that he'd never be able to forgive himself for making that decision years ago, he'd never see the world in color again. Everything wouldn't feel right, everything would be a constant numbing pain because his world is only grey.

The shaking began once again, the scent of rubber wavered his nose bringing reality. Reality that meant never seeing his hope, her smile, again. His vision blurs with hot tears and sting from the strong smell; he forces himself onto his feet determined to hold the tears back.

"Haru—"he ignores Nagisa's attempts of comfort; he just wants to be alone with his emotions. He didn't want anyone else to see him especially with the heavy thought fresh in his mind.

It's been too long, they should've had something, any information about Kou and her condition. The longer the wait for a doctor to arrive brought the undying idea of her being gone. Uncertainty makes it hurt a lot more, because of those thoughts and dreams.

Pushing the bathroom door open the air becomes thick causing his lungs to squeeze; it feels like the world is crashing down around him.

His back slumps against the cool door, the feeling of the blue sweater brings back memories of her fingers grasping his back in heated passion. The soft fragments of cotton felt like her gentle fingers caressing his skin and her sweet-lips against him as she showers him in affection; it's like she's here with him, right before him but he can't see her. She's a ghost.

Tears _splash_ against the white-tile floors as they silently drop from his blue orbs. His mind rushes with memories, thoughts that constantly play like: what their children would look like? How he yearns to meet those hopeless ideas.

"You can't take her," he whimpers to the ceiling through his teeth.

Lung squeezing tightly, eyes burning like flames from the tears and defeat runs through his body. He's been through many difficult times, times where he should've cried but maintained his emotions and remained unfazed, but this felt different. His skin itches as it would when he is deprived of water, heart throbbing like it did when his grandfather passed and mind scrambled furiously similar to the time he couldn't figure out his future.

His thoughts flicker to Makoto. Through the hours of waiting and hoping for him to appear brought Haru to the conclusion that he wasn't coming. He'd be the one at her side no matter the outcome. Before he thought he couldn't hate someone, he's never felt hatred but this feels close to it. But would that be okay? Would that make her happy? Could it surpass the feeling of abandonment from rushing through her soul? He wasn't sure, but he'd be damned if he wasn't here, if he didn't get to see her or know every gritty-detail from the start. There was no way he was leaving, even if she truly wishes for someone else to be there instead of him.

Quickly the feeling creeps back into his chest, the burning heat and nauseous sensation for the thought of Kou needing someone else. Someone who isn't him.

Anger consumes his heart as he grits his teeth and curls his hands, he wants to feel hatred for Makoto; that would be a lot easier. But Haru could only hate himself.

.

.

.

 _Silence and the synced rhythm of their footsteps on the sidewalk. In the distance the brisk sound of the ocean draws Haru's attention away from his best-friend as they head back to their shared-apartment. For the past few minutes Makoto has been going on about something, but Haru tuned him out a long time ago._

 _His mind is elsewhere, it's one two things: the beach and a certain red-headed woman in his communications course. He's been seeing her a lot more now, even speaking to her on a daily-basis since they always agreed to be one another's project partner. It's more progress than he ever made in his high-school days, and such a fact brought him nothing but joy. Maybe, soon enough, he could ask her out._

 _Suddenly Haru hears Makoto's footsteps stop and halts himself. The raven-haired male looks over to his childhood best-friend in silence, something was bothering him._

" _Makoto?" Haru questions; the brunette sighs heavily, "what's wrong?"_

 _Banter: a simple hint to when something is weighing on Makoto's mind, especially while their walking and Haru isn't showing any signs of interest. It's the easy sign to recognize._

" _Uh, it's nothing," Makoto laughs whilst rubbing the back his neck boyishly._

" _Don't lie," Haru shoves his hands into his pockets swiftly._

 _Makoto's green eyes flicker over the sidewalk avoiding Haru's at all cost, which meant one thing: he was afraid of telling him this certain weighted-worry._

" _Fine," Haru softly says, "tell me when you're ready."_

 _He wasn't going to push because he knows better than anyone how much being pushed sucks, and he didn't want someone as important as Makoto to feel such a thing._

 _He turns to walk away when a strong breeze blows through the chilled air, ruffling their locks softly._

" _I…I think," Makoto bites his lip, "I think I'm falling in love with Gou."_

 _Everything stops._

 _._

 _._

 _._

At that moment there was many things that Haru should've done, but he didn't choose the right one because it's reflecting now. How one messed up choice has become an offal dread.

Wiping the water from his face he sighs heavily for his reflection; he looks like utter shit and he couldn't care less.

Shutting the tap he heads towards the door, hoping that his emotions were slightly in-check and he wasn't going to burst into tears unknowingly. That was the worst feeling, never knowing when you're going to cry and feeling the hot tears running down your face. There isn't any time to catch yourself or understand the tears, because they're _just_ there, and there isn't nothing that can be done to stop them from falling since you don't know why they've began in the first place.

His eyes meet the waiting-room as the sound of the entrance doors opening, he doesn't pay mind due to the calm footsteps. Making his way back to his seat he looks over his friends and Chigusa, somehow he felt slightly comforted by having them all here especially someone like Rin, even though the red-head probably wanted nothing more to gut him like a fish. Maybe it's knowing the strained relationship between the Matusoka siblings and the idea of Rin being there for anything brought comfort; he's uncertain.

He never considered the emotions her older brother might be experiencing: failure, alone and many more than aren't easily describable. Rin's been there mostly. He's seen Kou as a mere baby, when she fell after taking her first steps and managed her first-word. All those memories, _their_ childhood is playing on repeat like a scratched record.

Even though Rin would never openly admit their similarities, in truth Haru and he had many things in common. It's one of the reason's they butt-head's often.

Rin shifts and stretches his neck, hearing the different _pops_ from sore muscles. Once his eyes land on the nurse's station he tenses and his fist clutch his jeans tightly. Curious, two blue eyes follow red to the desk only to widen.

Wrinkled, flushed, hurried and disarrayed: mannerisms. Mannerism's that Haru knew like the back of his hand, because it brought back memories of secret moments with Kou. One's that took place in: closets, empty shower stalls, empty offices at her job, the backseats of their cars and stairwells. God did he remember those moments vividly. Secretly he adored those stupid mannerism's, but not on his best-friend. Not on his one _fucking_ boundary; it allows rage to settle a lot more than he intended.

Rough, raw and unpredictable: perfect words for Matsuoka Rin, especially knowing his history of becoming aggressive spontaneously. As the missing-member stands at the desk _calmly_ speaking to nurses, laughing once or twice with a smile, it was easy to assume Rin would approach him pissed beyond belief.

A single hand shoves Makoto's wrinkled grey jacket forcing him away from the nurses roughly. "Ri—"he stops and meets two blue eyes instead of red.

The air thickens, it would be easier to shoot a single punch and fight till one of them was knocked out. Haru fucking wanted to, but Kou's image continued to stick in his mind. He couldn't hit him, no matter how many hickey's he can see poorly hidden by his collar, or how bright red his lips seemed due to a poor effort of cleaning off lipstick stains. Haru can't because one of them needs to think about her, and he was determined to be that said-one.

Jaw tight together and blue eyes fierce on green, he listens to the door once more paired with a set of frantic footsteps, which are followed by a soft-feminine tone: "Makoto, what's going on?"

Haru closes his eyes tightly for the unknown woman's question. It's one of the many questions Kou would mutter during her sobbing-fits because she couldn't understand why her relationship was vanishing, how to fix it, bring the "happiness" back or what changed. Kou didn't know what was going on, neither did Haru but now he does.

Someone had a good thing, a good relationship that another wanted but greed took over. He met someone during coffee-breaks and long nights marking assignments, someone whom was new and unknown… dangerous. Overtime that good relationship couldn't hold a flame to that bold taste of danger and he neglected it, he forgot the good thing he had because he grew addicted to the thrill. The thrill of possibly being caught, not knowing what's next and having a secret.

An addiction Haru wanted to stop because he wanted someone else's good-thing completely, since his greed took over his heart. Kou took over his heart.

Over four years he loved in silence so his best-friend could be happy. He went on dull dates and tried sleeping with faceless women, but nothing worked, it was painful. In four months he got what he always wanted, but knew he couldn't have it completely; it felt like staring at a toy in the window of a toy-store and having a parent tug you away because you can't afford it.

He and Kou argued over this one person, because they didn't want to hurt them. _God_ , they thought about him more than he thought of them.

There wasn't any need for explanations: Makoto has been having an affair for the last two years.

"Let her go,"—not an 'I hate you', 'you're pathetic' or punch; but a demand. His fists shake as he looks deep into the green eyes of Makoto. "Let. Kou. Go"

Silence sits and Haru leaves the room, disappearing down the surgical-corridor. He needs as much distance from Makoto as possible, before he did something he'd regret.

He could hear the franticly following footsteps of Nagisa down the darkened hallways, but he doesn't slow down or wait, just continues to walk until it happens: tears rush down his cheeks suddenly. Pressing his back against a wall he sinks to the floor causing the blonde to stop in the distance with the sight of his darkened form. He didn't know what do or say for once. Nagisa froze.

Out of the blue a single figure appears in front of Haru in a lab coat.

* * *

I was inspired once again for this idea and decided to write a part two. There might be a part three, but I'm not sure.

~VintageTypeWriter2346


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